


34 Hours and 42 Minutes

by smallenoughtofit



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Apology One Shot, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 23:00:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9406763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallenoughtofit/pseuds/smallenoughtofit
Summary: Ben Solo contemplates his life after a crippling loss. Love has a funny way of being the source of our greatest joys and pains.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is an apology for the late postings for my other fic, Legacy, Chapter 7 of which is officially up!

Ben Solo lay awake in his bed. He didn’t move or speak, but stared blankly at his dark ceiling. He turned to look at his clock. A little red “1:15 am” glowed through the darkness at him. 34 hours and 42 minutes. It has been 34 hours and 42 minutes since his wife had died. He curled up on his side of the bed, kicking off his shoes after hours of laying there on his back. He watched the place where Rey should be sleeping, then grabbed her pillow, burying his face in it. It still smelled like Rey.

 

This had been the longest week of Ben Solo’s entire life. Everything had been normal, last Saturday had been perfect and normal and then at 12:06 am, his life had changed. A drunk driver had struck the car Rey had been driving. After nearly two days in a coma, Rey had died. Ben blinked, tears leaking from his eyes and onto Rey’s pillow.

 

He had never expected to outlive Rey. He was eleven years her senior. He was supposed to die first. He buried his face in Rey’s pillow, sobbing. He had sat with her for hours and hours, holding her hand, praying to anyone who would listen that she would pull through. Ben would never forget how pale she had looked. She was such a lively person, her hazel eyes always bright and alert, her smile always wide and welcoming. But she had just lain there, pale and smaller than he had ever seen her.

 

Poe and Finn had stayed with her a while, too. Ben had never seen Finn’s dark eyes so sad. He and Poe were energetic, joking people. But they had spent those three days quietly, leaning on each other, hoping Rey would open her eyes. It felt wrong to have seen that side of him. Ben was the quiet, surly one. He was Mr. Solo, the English teacher with the cold mask and sharp tongue. Rey, Poe, and Finn were bright-eyed and young, still.

 

Ben heard his phone buzz behind him, but didn’t move towards it. He lay there for a long time, part of him hoping he could just stop existing. When his father, Han, had died, Ben had torn the apartment apart. He had wanted to tear the world to pieces and stop the pain. Now, he felt unbearably numb. Rey had been there the first time, soothing him, holding him and kissing his face as he cried uncontrollably.

 

Now he was alone in the dark.

 

Well, not entirely alone, as the tiny voice feeding through the baby monitor reminded him. He stood up, knowing what she wanted. He walked down the hall of their little apartment and to his daughter’s room. She lay on her back, kicking and fussing, still half-asleep. Ben gripped the edge of her crib, feeling his wedding ring cut into his fingers. He couldn’t do this alone. Well his daughter was technically weaned and could technically survive without Rey, he couldn’t parent her alone. He couldn’t live his life and watch her grow up alone. How was he supposed to tell his daughter about his parents? About his Uncle Luke? About Poe and Finn? About his past mistakes? About Rey? How was he supposed to tell his daughter about Rey? How could he even begin to describe Rey? Her wide smile and the way she’d looked up at the stars and found consolation in science and wonder in everyone she met? How was he supposed to explain who she had truly been?

 

Ben turned and strode down the hallway, away from his daughter. He had the sudden, violent desire, to stop everything. He wanted to destroy everything. He wanted to destroy himself and his house and everything Rey had ever touched or loved. Why were all of these things here and Rey wasn’t? Why was the sun going to rise tomorrow and Rey would not? The funeral was in another two days, but then the world would keep on turning and Ben found that viscerally wrong. Everything should have ended with Rey. He should have ended with Rey.

 

Ben collapsed to his knees in the hallway, gripping his head, unable to think straight. He suddenly registered that Rey’s daughter, the only thing that carried anything of her, was crying in the other room. Ben scrambled to his feet and dashed down the hallway, lifting his daughter into his arms.

 

“Shhh… Sophie, it’s okay. It’s okay. Daddy’s here. I’m here.” Ben murmured to his daughter, holding her close and swaying slightly as she continued to wail.

 

Ben walked over to the rocking chair in the corner of the room. Rey had sat here many times, both before and after Sophie was born. She’d been the one to demand that stars were painted on Sophie’s ceiling, all wrapped up in that cream-colored cardigan she wore every second she could. Ben remembered staring at Sophie when she was born and praying she looked like Rey.

 

Now he knew he would always see his wife in her.

 

Ben sat down, soothing his daughter, who quieted a bit. Life was going to keep going. He was going to have to be a single father and there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn’t bring Rey back. However, he could make her proud every day and ensure that Sophie knew how brilliant her mother was and how much love there had been in this house.

 

Ben thought of his family. He thought of his mother and her tough ambition, all focused on that business she had defended from corporate takeovers for decades. He thought of his father, who had died of a heart attack after not speaking to Ben for five years. Ben thought of his uncle Luke, and the apologies he needed to extend. He thought back even farther, to his distant and mysterious grandfather and the passionate, vivacious grandmother he had never met. His grandparents had been unable to raise their children, but he was going to take every opportunity to be with his.

 

Ben thought lastly of Rey again. He thought of how they’d argued in the snow their first meeting and how he’d been unable to think about at anything but her for days afterwards. She had always loved science and the stars and it was like she gave off a gravity that only he could feel. Only Rey could offer him a home. 

 

Ben felt Sophie settle her head against his shoulder, curling her little hand around the collar of his t-shirt. He was going to tell Sophie the story of her family in the only way he could think of. He’d give Sophie fairy tales and heroes worthy of the people who loved her.

 

“A long time ago,” Ben Solo began, watching the painted stars glow on the ceiling above, “in a galaxy far, far away…”


End file.
